


Honeyed Venom

by sonrae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Branding, Consensual Violence, Dominant Kylo Ren, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inspired by The Witcher, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Monsters, RC Gets Hurt A Lot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, TW my first fic, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Violence, Witcher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonrae/pseuds/sonrae
Summary: you are a barmaid / stablewoman at an inn in toussaint, kylo ren, one of the last of the witchers from the school of the viper regularly stays at the establishment. you wonder what keeps him coming back.this is a witcher!kylo au, one that has been living in my head for awhile. you do not need to have watched the show, or play the game to read this. the viper will teach you along the way.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You, Witcher!Kylo & Reader
Comments: 50
Kudos: 114





	1. Kylo

For some reason, you found yourself waiting for him. 

You’d noticed a routine in his travels, the Viper routinely found rest at the inn you worked at every 3 weeks. Nearly on the dot, which was odd to you. Most of the stories you’d heard of witchers told of contracts in kingdoms you didn’t even know how to pronounce, and The Phesantry wasn’t the most comfy place in Beaumont. Maybe it was because it was close to the palace, maybe he had someone there. You wondered so many things about a man whose eyes were the only thing you’d ever seen of his face. Deep yellow, piercing as the blades he kept, ones to match his title. 

The wind warned of a storm as you kneeled at the stables, changing the water that one of the helper boys promised he did. Of course you couldn’t count on them, no one in the damned inn seemed to know any responsibility beyond serving ale. 

“Room for one more?” You nearly dropped the rag onto your shoes, not that they weren’t dirty enough. There the Viper stood, holding the reigns of his steed that was as dark as the cloaks he wore, one of the most beautiful you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“For Luxe? Always, she’s the sweetest girl I ever took care of,” first, your eyes went to the mask he donned — one that you swore was carved intricately by a blacksmith, but you’d never gotten close enough to be sure. He didn’t answer you, leading her into the remaining stall you’d just cleaned. His head nearly hit the top of it, and you had to stifle a grin as you looked back to the bucket. Speak, figure out something to say. Anything to say. Keep him out here with you.  
“The storm bring you this way?” 

Turning to you, he ducked under the archway this time, a raven lock escaping his hood in the process. You forgot how your lungs worked for a moment. 

“No. Monster’s nest nearby causing trouble.” 

You stood now, still feeling dwarfed in his presence, having to tilt your chin slightly in order to meet his awaiting gaze. Nodding, as if it was a normal day in the neighborhood. “Lucky me then,” shit, you did not just say that, shifting on your boots, you cleared your throat, “more business.” 

It wasn’t just how big he was, that you had gotten past — or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Men, normal men, weren’t nearly as tall as your mutant guest, they all still barely met his shoulders in comparison. But the energy, the way the air got thick made you feel aware of each nerve under touch starved skin.

“Business? Ah, for my coin, hm? Not the gwent players I’ve brought you?” You grinned this time, genuinely, circling him only to meet the horse with the cloth you’d been wringing out. Slowly you brushed the journey’s dirt from her eyes, it being much easier to speak with the witcher when you weren’t making eye contact. 

“You may as well be some use to me, haven’t you noticed that you have a room now specifically made for you? Do you know why that is, Mr. Viper?” You waited for his response, turning back to him when you didn’t receive one only to find a curious, orange eyed man doing the same, so you continued, “Imprints on the mattress, only a man at a stocking six foot giant can be comfortable in that bed. And do you know how many of those I get here?” 

His eye twitched.

“One. Who doesn’t come nearly enough to have a special bed of his own.” He stepped closer, one step, but enough to feel like your vision had suddenly been suffocated by nothing but him.

“And what would I have to do to earn my place?” Fuck. What? Why did his voice sound so damn enticing. You swallowed the saliva collecting in your mouth, trying to grasp a response. A gloved hand reached up, leather skating over your lower lip, edging you further.

“Uh — I’m sure I can find... some work... something,” as your mouth parted with your words, he forced his thumb in, and you gladly took it. Your tongue curled as he pressed down, heat siphoning between your legs while he watched you. Awaiting. A serpent with his prey. 

“I’m sure you can,” You wanted him to touch you more, so badly. and if you knew more about his kind you’d know that he could hear every single pump of your heart — note every restriction of breath, “I think we’ve figured it out, haven’t we?” 

You sucked in a lungful, the brisk air not the only thing to blame for the gooseflesh that riddled your body. Nodding, this time not being hesitant in your determination to study his eyes — ones carved with violence, promises of death. He collected your skirts in one hand, enough have your legs completely exposed. “Dirty thing. You want this, don’t you? You want me to touch you out here, make you cum in these stables? 

Nodding so fast you could of kinked your neck, your supple thighs parted in invitation. Which wasn’t enough for him. 

“Say it.” 

God damn it. This had to be something out of your dreams. A fantasy you conjured submerged in slumber. 

“Yes,” you purred, heavy eyelids fluttering shut, his thumb still hindering your speech, “I want you to touch me, right now, please.” 

“Good girl.” 

Within a literal blink of an eye, your bodice was torn directly from your chest. Greedy hands found your breasts, leaving your mouth empty and gasping while the harsh leather rolled your nipple between the pads of his digits, earning a soft moan. This only seemed to enable the Viper, hitching one of your legs onto his waist, forcing you onto your toes while your back hit the angled wood that made up the horse-keep. Even in the dark, his hues shone like the sun itself, refusing to break under the moon’s pressure. 

Curling into his body, your ankle made like an anchor at the back of his solid thigh, wishing you weren’t wearing shoes so that you may be able to wiggle your toes and feel his length. He gave too much restriction to allow you to push yourself against him, leaving you aching to know if he was hard under the light armor he dressed in. 

A finger dipped into your underwear, peeling them from your cunt, hearing a hiss from under his mask when he finally met the saturated folds under them. Swallowing thick, you didn’t even bother to attempt to look behind him — let the boats on the dock have a show, not that they could see anything but your leg past his broad frame. You never thought leather could feel so good, the seam of it meeting your clit in the most delicious way. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Filthy whore, have you just been waiting for someone to come lift your skirts back here?” His chest pushed you harder against the pillar, your jaw slack with carnal pleasure while he began to circle, tight motions, listening to your body through it. His other palm was secured against your hip, keeping you where he wanted you, now noticing that this was just leaving a better view for him. Your thigh hit the hilt of the dagger at his side when you writhed, hissing through your teeth at the contrast from the warmth radiating from your body. 

“Hm.” Your eyes jerked opened the moment he stopped, then his fingers were plunging into you — sending speckles into your hindered vision. His thumb kept within the territory of absolute euphoria, finding a rhythm with the tiny bundle of nerves that had you babbling nonsense, please and yesyesyes wondering how someone could even feel this good. By just using their hand.

The one that kept you still promised bruises into your soft curves, the strand of hair you cherished earlier being met with more as he craned over you, discovering a braid in the mix of tendrils that somehow turned you on further. 

“I’m close,” you warned the moment he curled his fingers into you, sweat beading on your bare chest, eye contact much easier when the Viper was lulling you over the edge of an orgasm. Again, your nipple was being stretched, pulled, twisted as an act of further drowning you in this primal delight, this personal gratification right outside of the place you worked. 

And it worked, you were plucked at the center, coming completely undone under the stranger’s will. “Fuck, so tight, slut.” He shoved another finger into you for good measure as your ribbed walls clenched around him, a frenzy of motions from your climax descending you into another reality, your moans enough to alert the guests inside of exactly what was being done to you. 

Removing himself, you watched him under thick lashes while he mapped out your body, as if he needed one last image for memory before he continued on with his business. But not before his fingers were returning to your mouth, forcing you to taste what he’d just conjured from you, and you sucked every bit off of the rough material as a reward. 

“Kylo.” He finally spoke, taking a step to free you from your position against the stables.

“What?” You hadn’t even had time to collect yourself, the skirts falling back over your legs as you attempted to close your bodice in a way that was modest enough to get back to your room. 

“My name,” the Viper explained, “I want to hear it next time I make you cum.” 

And with that, he was off, leaving you with a muddled mind and swollen cunt.


	2. Forbidden Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were always told not to look for the monsters under your bed. But why would they be there otherwise?

Nothing could make up for Kylo, the Viper — whoever he was -- making you cum then leaving you stranded once again. At least, that was what you told yourself when you’d collected the coin from the bed, the pile he’d always left, the pay and extra that could afford him another three weeks there. 

You swore under your breath, cursed the Viper who left your thighs warm with need, unable to tie your bodice without the memory of his assertive hands, demanding to see every part of you.

But those words caught in your mouth the moment you turned, running directly into his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh — what? I mean, no — I’m... was closing up your room,” you explained quickly. You could feel his gaze burning through you. “Thought you had um — checked out for the night.” 

“That isn’t your job.” 

It was the truth. Your duties weren’t supposed to go past the care of the horses (which you refused to give up), and the front for customer service. The tidying of the inn was left to Myra, the innkeep had hired her the moment she gained the budget for her. Not that they wouldn’t mind making you pick up an extra task. But this task-- the motivation was all your own. 

“So why are you in here?” 

You finally met his gaze, the connection wrapping you in a warmth so deep it burned fear into your consciousness. He heard you, he was trying to pull it out of you. You could have swore he didn’t blink the entire time he was staring at you.

The black surrounding his face brought out his eyes in a way that was deadly, framing them, charming you until there was nothing left in your brain but the galactic orgasm you’d experienced weeks (what felt like years with him in your presence) prior. He wanted you to forget. That gaze dropped to your neck, where your pulse would be, before he reached up and wrapped his hand around the entirety of your throat. 

Then the innkeep was making her way in the door, and Kylo was hesitantly dropping his hold. But he never took his eyes from you. It made you feel so supernaturally bare. 

“Oh. Sorry, sir — I’d thought you’d gone by now,” the woman said, though she was shooting daggers at you. Like it was your fault he’d stayed.

Was it? 

“Hm.”

“Did she say something? I can have Myra take care of you, if you ne—” 

“I don’t.” 

And with that, he turned, and your breath was released from your chest. He ducked under the door, and Miss Betty lurched forward to snatch your arm. “Have you any idea who that is, what he is, you daft thing?”

Squinting your eyes, you leered at her, “What does it matter?” The room was fuzzy from yet another adrenaline-spiking meeting with the Viper. You looked after the doorway, then back to the woman, tearing your arm away from her, “He pays enough coin to keep us afloat. You should be thanking me.”

“He’s a Witcher. A mutant. A monster who slays monsters. Stay away from him. I can’t afford for you to lose your innards.” 

If only she knew. 

But you only stared, her words licking a cold up your body. And you believed her, like she had just given you a piece of the puzzle that was the Viper. Taking your hand, she picked every piece of gold from your grip, holding it for a moment too long, “You stay away from him. You hear me?” You just nodded, allowing her to collect what belonged to her before you went back to the bar. Where you belonged.

You took in the entirety of the inn, hoping you’d see him on your way downstairs, the only customer being the cook, Ruek, leaning over your spot yielding a mug heavy with ale. 

Going behind the counter, you found a rag and made yourself busy, wiping glasses that didn’t need to be cleaned. You felt his eyes on you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, just… the Witcher came out, then my mother came after you… then you after her, now your cheeks are all flush and I’m just curious is all.”

“There you all go with that word again. What is that? I just thought they were sorcerers like any other. Bounty hunters. Inspiration for bards.” Your eyes rolled, rag squeezing in your hand the same way it did the night he’d made home in your subconscious. 

Ruek clicked his tongue, “Might as well break your ignorance if you’re going to be changing his sheets. That man… if you even want to call him that, is Toussaint’s greatest curse..” 

What you knew about the cook in the Pheasantry wasn’t much, but you did know that he had traveled inns upon inns just to cook for different breeds of people. His eyes were wise with stories, knowledged wrinkles framing his kind smile, you trusted him more than most of the folks that you worked with. Not that Beauclair was a bad city.. 

“Curse? You’re starting to sound like your mother.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m just surprised you don’t know any of this. You look …” He searched your eyes, before sighing, “am I just scaring you?”

“No, I want to know. Your mom was trying to do that, for my own good probably,” you scrunched your nose, knowing she'd never try to purposely scare you. She looked out for you to the best of her capability, a mother to most who ended up employed here, “I mean, you said I should know. So just tell me.” 

“Okay. You know about the monsters in the waters, right? The sailor special— drowners.” Ruek laughed at his own joke.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about those, yeah. That’s why you don’t go into them alone, especially at night. But they’re no real threat.” Ugly blue humanoids that looked like overgrown fish, their teeth sharp enough to shred skin..

“You’re not wrong, but I’m not talking about those kind of monsters. That’s my point. Normal Witchers were made to save us from those creatures, protect our villages, keep us safe from impending doom. The only reason those monsters aren’t a threat is because of them.”

“So they’re .. guards against the supernatural?” You asked, trying to understand why you should be afraid of a man whose targets weren’t human.

“To put it lightly. Those are the stories you hear. They do it for coin, usually, contracts are pinned calling to them for help to save a child or survey a forest… all of them come from different schools, not sure why, but as boys they were all either sold off, given as rewards or to put it bluntly: taken. I’ve heard some of them don’t even know their real name, had to name themselves because Witchers aren’t exactly… you know, warm. You following along?” 

You nodded, his eyes an image in your head, luring you just as they did every time you were in front of him. Ridding you of any other focus. “Different schools? Like there’s more than one kind of Witcher?” 

“Sure, I’m not… really sure how many, or even if any stand. After they get initiated, if that’s what you want to call it. They go through erm.. Trials? Mutations of the bodies, to make them more apt for being able to go against these beasts. Some of them don’t make it, most of them didn’t. In fact, that Viper is probably twice — fuck, maybe even three times my age.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Yeah. Mutations do a helluva lot of things to their genetics, including life span. Their senses are heightened to a way we as humans wouldn’t even be able to describe. Wouldn’t call them mages, but they can wield magic with their hands. They’re called something…” 

“Signs.” Miss Betty answered as she trailed down the stairs, making you jerk from Ruek’s gaze. But she just continued on, as if she hadn’t added to your conversation. 

He nodded, “Yeah. Specific magics for their fighting needs. Anyway. The necklace they have, the medallion — all of them wear it, represents the school they’re from. Pretty sure it has to do with their freaky senses too. But that one, he’s called the Viper because that is the school that taught him. And… well, they were destroyed years ago. For not submitting to the new government. Even others Witchers say to this day, they don’t even know where it was located. Many think of him as an assassin because it isn’t part of the Witcher morale to take contracts on humans, even lesser threats of beasts… but a Viper takes the deal no matter whose head it is.”

“No more.” Betty interrupted, taking the glass from in front of you to break what felt like a trance, “she can listen to the drunkards and bards to hear the rest of it. You’re off for the day, consider it a mental break.” 

The inkeep grinned, almost as a farewell, leaving you to give Ruek an apologetic shrug. Not that you didn’t want to listen, but it almost seemed like he was trying to scare you.

Nonetheless, you were off, your mind running through what you’d just been told. Taking the bag that hung over your shoulder, you decided to go back to your house first to change. You’d already taken a bath last night, after you’d touched yourself enough to make your wrist numb. You whimpered his name in the confines of your washroom, tested it on your tongue, hoped that you would get a glimpse of him the next day. 

But all you had gotten was the interaction this morning and your rushing thoughts. Honestly, you didn’t even know that he had come back. It had been another three weeks since he’d touched you in the stables, maybe a few days more… not that you were counting. 

Have you been fantasizing about some otherworldly being? Was he even human? You couldn’t verify that yourself, and his fingers had been inside of you. The only thing you’d seen of his face wasn’t exactly humane. Yet, the Viper didn’t scare you. You were curious, ready to set gasoline to the flame licking inside of you. 

Another bath. That was what you needed.You’d change from your bright work gown, put on some trousers. You wished Ruek’s story had scared you, prepared you for another three weeks without seeing Kylo, another three weeks imagining your fingers were his own. 

But it didn’t. 

Your hand wrapped around your own throat, sighing gently before it began to trail into the water.

———

A basket was tucked low in your elbow as you made your way through the market, deciding against curling up in your bed for the rest of the evening. You knew exactly what would come of that. 

The best of goods were being offered by merchants that beckoned you over, colors decorating their tents, the scent of fresh bread in the air. Children ran past you to chase one another in a game you were sure you played when you were younger. 

Your hair dried at your shoulders, cheeks still flush from the scorching water you’d made in a futile attempt to shed the inn’s recent events. 

“Ma’am! Fresh fish, finest in all of Toussaint!” 

You turned, looking to the merchandise, scales reflecting off of the coral buildings. 

“A pound for half the price!” 

You gave a tight smile, but continued on — until you ran so hard into someone that your feet lost all memory of balance. They caught you at your arms, stabilizing you as if you weighed close to nothing. 

“The idea of following someone is to not let them notice you.” The voice caught in your ears like a starving venus plant, unknowingly holding onto his forearms. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” You took a step back, dropping your hands, the Viper still wide in your gaze. 

He had been tucking something into his bag, quick to have it blend back into the mass of black. The sun still kissed the sky, enough to see him in a different light — one that could be argued for a better view than the horizon. His armor consumed the rays, shining an iridescence off of it that you didn’t even know black could make. By the time you made it back to his gaze, you noticed him taking your body in as if it were one of the things being offered at the market. The mask carved barely above his nose, you identified a scar just over his left eye. 

He seemed to suck in a long breath, and you wouldn’t have noticed if it didn’t somehow make him larger. 

You wanted to make conversation, but his gaze was already bored, and you were desperately scrambling to gain his attention, “If I were to follow you, it wouldn’t be in a market.”

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to give you permission to go on. You plucked a green apple from your basket, rolling it between your fingers, “I would do it somewhere where I’d find you alone, maybe even follow you to your camp and wait there until you found me.” Teeth broke into the fruit, and you spread your lips on it, suckling the juices as they dripped down your chin. You brought your hand up to scoop it back into your mouth, keeping eye contact as if you were on trial.

“Come.” 

“What?”

Again, he didn’t answer. It was growing to be a pattern between you. He simply mirrored your stare for a pinch of a moment before he turned on his heel. You scurried behind him like a starved pup. 

As Kylo passed through the crowd, he didn’t bother to shift out of anyone’s way — they did it for him. He glided between bodies, never letting anyone dare to brush against him while he stomped with determined direction. 

You followed him until you were tucked in an alley, but he didn’t give you a moment to question him before your front was pressed against warm brick, hips secured to the wall by his own. You gasped at the hard outline through his leather pants, nails digging into the grates in the wall. The back of your mind begged you to remember the things you were just told, but the fingers that snaked over the nape of your neck and into your hair coaxed those thoughts away. 

He yanked it back, forcing you to lean against his chest as he pushed himself into your behind. Your body immediately responded to him, heart thumping in your ears like a war drum with the anticipation of feeling him again. In any way he would give you. 

A dam broke, your blood was replaced with molten lava, the only thing to keep you from focusing too much on your already shuddering breath was the hand that came down on your ass. Hard. 

You yelped, hips edging into the alley, but there was no escape. This only drove the Witcher on, palm, punishing the same tender spot he had just gifted you. 

“Shit!” 

You gasped, the warmth becoming more noticeable in the root of your most sensitive bits. 

“You walk around like this and expect me not to take you?” 

A frustrated huff met your confusion, his palm flat against your belly, arm wrapped over your front to grab the inside of your thighs, kneading them in appreciation. His target wasn’t particular, enjoying the way you felt. 

His fingers hooked into your waistband, catching your panties in the process as he tugged them down your legs. A growl followed, one that ricocheted through the narrow space he had commandeered. You whimpered in response, blood rushing to the tips of your ears when you felt him crouch behind you. 

Leaning your chest into the rock, you spread your legs as much as your trousers at your ankles would allow, and then you felt teeth sink into your cheek, free hand collecting the pillowy curves of your behind. Your eyes rolled, his leathered digits squeezing marks into your waist as he pulled you into his mouth.

And that was when it hit you.

His mask was off. Kylo’s mouth was on you. 

Another moan. At first you thought it was him — you didn’t recognize it, but your mouth was gaping with proof that the foreign noise had just fled your chest. And this only enabled him. 

First, it was his nose. Spreading your folds open and using it as a doorway for his tongue to explore, angling through them until he found the nub, swirling the agile muscle against it. 

You so badly wanted to tug his hood down, wrap your fingers in the raven locks that that you’d glimpsed, but you had nothing but the wall for security, the roughness of the stone. And the Viper’s godly mouth luring you further into his will. 

One hand stayed on your cheek, massaging and spreading it while his head ducked between your legs to send you into a pleasure frenzy. 

“Yesyesyes, fuck — right there.” 

He opened his jaw further to suck your swollen pussy into his mouth, your juices saturating his chin while he tamed you. 

An impatient nip scathed your skin, only for him to begin to move his head in a way that you knew no other ordinary man could replicate. 

Ghosting a hand up your spine, the Viper took a heavy grasp of the back of your neck, forcing you forward. Your forehead met the grainy siding, you twisted in an attempt to move your face away from it. In such quick movement the harsh stone dragged along your temple, scraping your skin, the hiss of pain melting into a cocktail of affirmations. 

For the second time, something clicked.

I want to hear it the next time I make you cum. 

The memory alone had you jerking down into his merciless mouth, the Viper growling in return, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. He stretched you open, your jaw clenching while two unforgiving fingers entered you.

Your feet were nearly lifting off of the ground from the force of his devoir. 

The savory noises coming from you were just as easy as your breath, you couldn’t open your eyes at that point, your lids too heavy with carnal gratification. 

No longer did you care who the Viper was, but what his name was when it would pass your lips. 

Curving to the part that would absolutely demolish you, the Witcher took care in carving you out to remind you of his demand, with the same fingers he had made promises of death with. You gave it to him, your jaw slacking as incoherent encouragement for him to continue while he sucked your pulsing clit into his mouth, plunging into you so hard your body jiggled with his movements. 

“Kylo!” 

The shriek vibrated your skull, body jerking with the restraints of his large grip while you melted in his mouth. He took a few more lazy slurps, finishing you off before he left you to pull up your pants, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if you could overpower a mutant that everyone spun tales about.

By the time you caught another glimpse of him, his muzzle was secured back. He looked at you from under half-lidded eyes, as if he hadn’t just planted another seed for your damnation. 

“I thought you were leaving,” you blurted as he exited the temporary hideaway.

He quirked his head slightly, still statequsue as he considered you. “I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to kassanovella for helping me edit the rough draft of this chapter after i was having a mini crisis, and motivating me to publish this story in the first place. i'm going to try to post chapters at least once a week, and provide the witcher 3's beastiary for monster references. my tumblr will also have a tag for visuals, i really hope you got more insight on this chapter!


	3. A Hard Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> curiosity killed the reader chan.

“Ten barrels then?” 

Nodding, you wrote off your name on the order sheet. “Like always, Betty wants to make sure they’re pre-bought before the new fisherman's haul arrives this weekend.” 

“Expecting a crowd? I heard about a bard that everyone seems to be itchin’ to see.” 

You wouldn’t normally make small talk with the brewer--he wasn’t a very bright or entertaining man--just like how you didn’t normally go for the orders, only if Betty was extra busy. But you needed to occupy your time as much as you could. Ever since the alley you couldn’t even look at the coral buildings of Toussaint without remembering how the Viper’s tongue felt even better than his fingers. At least it kept true to his title. 

“Hopefully.” You gave him a tight smile before you turned to finish the rest of the small errands that the innkeep had given you to get off of her back, having cleaned every crevice of the Pheasantry before it had even opened. 

You’d eavesdropped on other conversations every time you heard the word _Witcher_ , but most of the time they weren’t talking about the Viper. You’d only caught a few, which seemed to come and go just like the boats--but they were hesitant, tip toeing around their words as if he would interrupt. 

And most days, you wished he would. 

Sighing, you gazed over to the river, the breeze greeting you as you tried to lose your train of thought, let your muscle memory walk you through the sunny city. You knew it well enough now. It never really rained, so you weren’t worried about the extra time you took avoiding those alleys. 

Too often you would find yourself frustrated, wondering if he’d ever come back, promising yourself that he would get a mouthful from you if he ever did. If he never came back to the inn, oh well. Couldn’t be any worse than pining after a ghost--or, that was what your mind was determined to play on a loop. 

Until the sight of his dark cloaks broke that. 

Your chest filled, nearly dropping the list you had clutched between your fingers. He was making his way over the bridge, high upon his stygian steed. A perfect picture of death. 

And your first instinct was to follow him. Your boots clicked against the ground as if someone had shot a gun to urge you forward. He was over the bridge by the time you even got close to it, slicing through the crowd like butter. Meanwhile, you nearly had to shove men to get past them. Bravery was one of your downfalls, and you only confirmed this as you waded to the edge of the forest Kylo had disappeared into. 

The sun still hung high, the trees hosting a darkness that it wouldn't touch. Your feet crunched a branch, and you used a thick trunk for assistance. As your eyes adjusted, an eerie the only thing you could identify. 

There was a trail--that much you could tell, but no one in sight. If you listened close enough, you could still hear the river running through Toussaint and that comforted you enough to move on. As you kept on the path, you saw a broken wagon tossed aside, obviously stripped by bandits— you wouldn’t stay long enough to find where the owner was. 

Your hair fell around your face as you tried to keep focus on your footing while still being aware of your surroundings, knowing that this was a bad idea. Yet the thought of finding the Viper in action beckoned to you like a siren call. You’d been away from the inn a few hours, so you couldn’t know if he had already checked in. Maybe he’d even looked for you.

A sickening shriek whipped your head so fast you almost kinked your neck to peek around one of the evergreens. There you found a dead knight-- that wasn’t what horrified you.

There were creatures around it, tall as any human, their flesh was rotted, holes on their body exposing the decimated tissue. They craned over the corpse, feasting on the carcass, the noise shuddering your bones.

Stumbling slightly, you were unable to take your eyes off of them, too afraid if you did, they’d notice you. You wouldn’t even have a running chance. 

Then your heel caught, not having time to look back, sending you tumbling into the grass. 

Something seized your wrist, jerking you to meet the Viper’s angry, yellow eyes. He tilted his head slightly, aiming his ear toward the monsters as he lowered you to the ground with a gentle thud. You squirmed, leaves crunching underneath you--Kylo didn’t hesitate, following you to the forest floor, serving as a personal shield. Your throat thickened. He was so close that he invaded every one of your senses. His body was achingly heavy, even while he used his elbows as a kickstand to not crush you under his weight. 

Nose filled with his scent, forest — fresh cut pine and mint, so strong that dizzied you. You didn’t notice how hard your breathing was until your chest touched his. 

“What are those?” you asked in a panicked whisper, nodding toward the beasts. “And why… is this necessary?” 

He pulled his chin down to his chest, looking between your bodies before his gaze bore through you again. “You’d rather be in the knight’s position.” 

“No. No. It’s just…” 

Warmth already crept between your thighs--even as danger weighed in the air. Only intensified by the Viper’s presence. 

“Stop talking.” 

“Are they still there?” 

He didn’t answer you, but he didn’t look away from you either. You couldn’t stand it, burning under him, you almost debated your survival rate if you would have just ran. 

“Is that who you were after? Or... what?” you asked. “There were like, five of those things around it. Eating him. I couldn’t even see anything other than the helmet, really I —”

“No.”

“No?” 

“That isn’t what I was after.” He hushed you through the muzzle.

You took a beat, looking him over. You couldn’t remember if you had ever seen him blink.

“What were you after then?” 

The Viper grunted, a deep sound before collapsing a large hand around your mouth, the leather warm against your skin. It only gave you more time to notice his body positioned, how his large thigh was between both of yours. You couldn’t get over how good he smelled, how you’d never smelled any soaps like it in all of your life, unable to compare it to fresh flowers or a rare rain. 

It was a few more minutes with his hand silencing you before he was lifting, pulling you with him. 

“Come.”

“Oh no. Not this again. You’re not gonna trick me with your fucking--” you gestured toward him, having pulled yourself from his grip now, “--whatever it is that you do to me, Kylo.” 

His name left your mouth differently this time, full of spite, and his fists squeezed at his sides. You waited for him to say something, you figured you were better off continuing. 

“You do know there’s brothels for that? I know that you probably get everything you want as the local nightmare, but I’m not exactly okay with being a toy at your once-a-month disposal. Were you even going to come to the inn?” 

Another deafening silence. You swore he didn’t move a muscle the whole while you spoke. 

“You followed me.” 

Your stomach sank, your eyes darting to the scattered leaves he’d made your sanctuary. 

“I’m not coming with you. I’ll walk back. We aren’t even far.” Your confidence was very convincing. At least you thought. 

“Hm.” 

He brought his attention from your toes, to your eyes, then back again before he was turning. You hadn’t noticed Luxe before, but she was barely standing a few feet away from the Witcher, waiting patiently. 

You weren’t pouting, but your brows furrowed as you watched him, mouth puckering like he’d just failed a subconscious test. The Viper sent a leg over his horse, mounting it in an easy sweep. You’d get back with or without him.

Brushing some of the mud from your skirts, deciding you needed to tie them up so you could get out of the forest more efficiently. 

You leaned down--and were snatched up by your blouse, placed perfectly in front of Kylo on the saddle, facing him, your chests touching as they had before. One of his hands twisted in the reigns, using his fingertips to kick your legs over his like they were an irritant. 

And when you did, you felt a hard outline through his trousers. Your heart shot into your ears. 

You found your hands tightening into the chainmail at his arms, earning another look from him. He surveyed you under thick lashes before scooping your skirts to your belly. 

“You followed me into the forest.”

Swallowing a whine, you made an effort to keep eye contact with him, finding a new speck of amber each time. 

“I— told you I would follow you back to camp, get you alone…”

Your jaw was captured in his stitched fingertips, turning you toward his eclipsed gaze while the horse continued to walk along. 

“Naughty, naive thing. Trying to get yourself killed.” 

His hand moved between the both of you and unzipped his pants--you couldn’t help but watch. It released his cock immediately, breaking any restraint you mustered, a whine coming through parted lips. 

You’d never seen it, only felt it against your belly when he’d fingered you in the stables. And it was more than you could have ever imagined. Your mouth watered at the sight of the pink tip, already lined with precum. It was the only skin he’d revealed--other than what you saw around his eyes--but you imagined his cock would reach his navel if he were naked. 

You wanted him so badly you couldn’t wait. And it was written all over your face. He lifted your hips, peeling your wet underwear from your cunt. A hiss pushed through his mask, before he jerked his wrist and tore them off in a single motion. 

Kylo kept you against the front of his saddle, using it as leverage to angle you down onto his cock. Your jaw nearly unhinged at the feeling of him splitting you open, burning and satisfying all in one go. His brow furrowed, his focus between your thighs as he sunk into you. 

It was almost too much to handle, your spine arched against the sculpted wood, desperate to fill yourself with every inch of him. You’d thought about it so many times, spun so many fantasies at your fingertips at the thought of his cock filling you, but nothing matched this. 

It was unrivaled.

“Hold onto me,” the Viper demanded through clenched teeth. 

His thighs tightened under your knees, and you did as he asked. Your forehead fell on his shoulder, and his hand left you, sinking you down to the hilt, packing you to the most undiscovered bits. 

He snapped at the reigns, and the steed went from a steady trot to a fierce gallop, bouncing you off his lap, his cock pounding your cervix--you squealed, biting at the material of his armor. His body was so easy to hold onto, one of your arms hooked under his, the other draping over his shoulder, fingers linking to secure yourself against his frame. 

But that didn’t give you any relief against him. Lewd slaps melded with hooves hitting the ground, not even sure where you were or where you were going now. Your eyes rolled back into your head, an impending orgasm taking hold just as the curve of Kylo’s glove found your throat. 

“My name,” he growled. 

You clenched around him and conceded to his demand. A sharp cry broke through your climax, giving the knowledge of exactly who was wrecking you to all of the forest. The Witcher was not in control of the motions that were snapping you to his dick, dropping the lead to lock both of his murderous hands on each side of your waist in order to change that. 

Kylo used your weight to slam you down, primal, lascivious noises puffing from the mask. You could barely keep your eyes open, stars fuzzing in your blackened gaze while you just took every delicious inch he was forcing into you. 

“Fuck, slut. You have no idea what you’ve done.” 

You couldn’t answer him, you could barely even comprehend what he was saying. Every time the metal-plated hooves hit the ground it vibrated through Kylo’s body to make home in yours, unyielding in its wreckage.

Another noise fled you--this time it seemed to stir up the horse, nearly knocking you off of the path that was a blur behind the Viper’s back. He removed his hand and waved it behind you, somehow soothing the steed before it found a new home on your already-pulsing clit, using your juices to easily swipe it back and forth with tight urgency. Your body would have twisted if it wasn’t for your heels locked under his calves, but Kylo showed no mercy. He forced you to take all of him once he felt your rigid walls flutter in warning, only the motions of your ride adjusting his cock in the stubborn burrow it found. You felt like human gelatin as you came again, and he gave you no time to relish in it.

He strangled you, snapping you back against the neck of the steed, giving it the perfect angle for your back to curve. He grabbed the ties of your bodice, tugging them and releasing your breasts from their confines. The Viper grunted, keeping his cock deep while he pushed the skirts back above your waist. You could barely breathe. But you didn’t care.

He wanted to see all of you. 

Whines combined with quick breaths as you watched him, awaiting his next move. Then he pulled his mask under his chin. 

Your heart stopped. 

But you only got a glimpse of his lips, perfect and full, before they were on your breasts, suckling as if he would get oxygen from your perked nipples. His hands snaking under your back to force you further into his face. His teeth sank into the soft flesh of your tit, drawing blood as his canines dragged against the skin. You hissed, invading his hood with his hand to find the hidden tendrils of his hair. You couldn’t even wrap your mind around the fact that you had seen a flash of his full face. It was too good--he was your mind and body. 

He fucked you relentlessly, your ass starting to sore from the way it shifted on the straddle every time you bounced on it. Your thighs grazed his leather trousers, red with an angry rash that you would feel tomorrow. When he let go of your throat, you sucked in a deprived breath.

Kylo’s mouth was hot, needy, devouring every bit of your chest, leaving possessive purple marks in his wake. He groaned at each force of motion into your saturated cunt, forcing himself over the edge, no warning before he was spilling his seed into you. The only thing you could feel was the slow force of his hips, needing the extra friction, becoming feral on your chest. You glistened with his spit. 

Again, the Viper returned his mask before you even had a chance. His back straightened, towering over you as you desperately tried to catch your breath. But he didn’t pull himself out of you, tugging you to the seat properly, your skirts falling back over it. 

You felt dizzy, your cheeks hot with blood, only hiding your tits when you realized you were trailing back into town, crimson staining your top when you redressed. 

Your walls still pumped, the aftermath of your orgasm reminding that he was inside of you, his cock softening at every passing building. Still, he made no effort to empty you. Not until you made it to the Phesantry. 

He huffed and scooped under your armpits to lift you off his horse, leaving you bare with a cocktail of juices flowing down your legs.

The only thing you noticed was Kylo tucking the ripped material of your panties into his pocket. Then he was gone, without so much as another glance. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://witcher.fandom.com/wiki/Rotfiend  
> here is what you saw in the forest! i'll be providing links like this probably for every monster i feature. i really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter — for any nonwitcher readers, he uses one of the 'signs' to calm the horse which is a common thing in the game. a hat tip to adam's recent interview with john oliver is in here as well because.. whew.


	4. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i've always had a crush on vampire girls.

_O Valley of Plenty, O Valley of Plenty…._

This song was going to be stuck in your head for weeks. How many times had the bard sang it in the last 24 hours? You could hear him even as you stocked the tables outside, grabbing one of the plates a little too tight when you picked it up. 

It wasn’t as if the man was a bad singer, he had such a following for a good reason — out of all the songs in the land, his favorite was a ballad of Witchers. Reminding you of the last time you’d seen yours, how well you’d memorized the outline of his lips even in the quick look you’d gotten under a setting sun.

Only a few days passed, it felt like weeks. While work would usually occupy you, you spent extra time turning your head toward every incoming guest, just to check if it was him. 

Betty couldn’t stand you working so much, she nearly kicked you out every time dawn began to pass over Beauclair. After you finished the placewear, you said a quick goodbye to cook while you grabbed your things from the kitchen before passing the crowd that was gathered tightly in the inn, warmed by ale and good company. 

Usually, you’d stay after when entertainment was hired at the Pheasantry. You loved music, the tales behind the tunes, letting your body sway and your mind find silence. Ruek didn’t put up an argument either, you figured he was just about as sick of you as the inkeep. And your bed didn’t sound so bad with thoughts of the Viper occupying your mind. 

The cobblestone shined with the reflection of the night sky, the town dressed in a somber silence while your boots clicked down the street. 

Every time you blinked, you saw him. Leading the horse as he fucked you, using the instability to his advantage, leaving you with a bruised cervix, one that demanded you yield every step you took. You weren’t shy to your carnal desires, but he awoke them in a way that seemed unearthly. 

Crickets began to stir in the grass, your walk not being far so you took your time, enjoying the way the buildings looked at night, walking in zigzags since you didn’t have to worry about anyone to run into. Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong when you spotted a hooded woman right in front of your building, like she was looking for something at the bottom of the door.

“Hey. Can I help you?” You knew the neighbors that lived above you, and the other flat was vacant, and you couldn’t help the suspicion considering the woman wasn’t even trying to ring the bell. 

Her hair fell in raven curls around her face, side profile sharp, and you could tell that her eyes were beautiful even from here. 

“Are you looking for someone?” 

Again, you tried to gauge her attention, taking a step closer. 

Maybe she was hurt, maybe this was a grandchild of the elderly couple that you didn’t know about. You remembered them telling you that their family was still back home in Novigrad, but maybe you’d missed something in the last conversation you had with the wife.

Reaching your hand out, you barely brushed your fingers over the cloaked shoulder before she was turning, snapping your arm back into your chest. 

What was a regular woman had glowing, white eyes, mouth opening in a hiss — revealing jagged teeth. As you stepped back, fear making you trip over your heel, she advanced on you. In her motions the hood fell, dark hair surrounding her face, and the last thing you saw was her desiccated beauty before everything was black. 

—

“.... and you, the Witcher who prefers vampires over monsters, come here for a girl?” 

Your head hurt. The ground was hard under you, pebbles indenting your skin while you rolled onto your side. Barely able to register the voice, let alone what they were saying. Blood rushed between your ears. You heard a pop, wondering if it was in your head or wherever you were, trying to recover the last thing you remembered. The woman. 

“Why don’t you let her stay here, with me?” You cracked an eye, a wall looking back at you, behind you a quick shuffle of feet somewhere before a high pitched shriek burst the tension that was making the room sound like it was underwater.

“Not as nice as the others say, I thought the first time I met you would be special. A dance of two monsters.” 

“I don’t dance.” 

His voice, even in your state, had your brain crawling with urgency, looking for the crack of light in confused darkness. 

You rolled again, releasing more tiny rocks that had burrowed in your skin, just in time to see the woman disappear. 

Her clothes the only evidence she was there, Kylo shattering a glass bulb in the same place she’d left. The man grunted, now making eye contact with you. 

The cave began to echo with distant noises of the bruxa. Your head whipped, trying to find the source, adjusting your hindered sight in the darkness. Kylo was turning on his heel, unclipping something from his waistband, another splintering against the floor.

This time, it puffed with silver dust, leaving the air sparkling — and that was when you saw her.

She was decorated by whatever he’d just tossed in that direction, yet you couldn’t completely recognize her, you knew it was the woman outside of the door. The bomb only outlined her frame, but it was enough for him. 

Jumping against the caved walls, she used them to get above the Viper, dropping from the ceiling just as he caught the dagger that was in his left hand between his two forefingers, holding them both to brace for her impact.

Claws scraped along his side, and he took advantage of her weight to grasp her wrist — sending her into the wall next to you. She shrieked, then disappeared again.

Kylo stood above you. He used the curve of his boot, right where your ribcage met your hip, only to toss you farther toward what you assumed was the entrance. 

You gasped, rolling against the floor, trying to protect your softer bits from the collision with the ground. 

Scurrying to the wall, you shrunk yourself against it, pulling your knees into your chest. Still in your skirts from work, you clutched them in clammy palms, the dust burning your nostrils as you swallowed air. 

It was as if you couldn’t completely focus your eyes, Kylo blended with the darkness, his sharp movements as he dodged your captor the only thing spotlighting him. You were too afraid what may come if you looked away. 

His offense was fluid, as if he’d had this fight a thousand times. It was almost like… he wasn’t trying. Kylo would mock her without speaking, his blades barely catching her as she passed, earning gurgling objections from the monster. 

Each time she attempted to invade his space, he was shrugging her off in a lithe twist of his burly body.

The Viper’s very stance was taunting, flicking his daggers outward as if to challenge her. The silver caught in the sliver of moonlight, before it was being tossed through the air and landing directly in her chest. That pissed her off. 

She teleported behind him, jumping onto his back before you could blink, and latched into the side of the Witcher’s neck.

You screamed. 

He shook her off, stumbling forward, gloved hand coming over the wound as she circled him. Crimson dripped from her mutated face, chittering all the way, as if she had already won. You felt your eyes burning with tears, and you refused to let them pass. Monsters was a light term for the cloaked woman who was now besting the Viper. 

Suddenly, her demeanor changed, she was recoling. The noises were turning painful, and this was Kylo’s signal to advance on her. He dropped his hand from his shoulder, grabbing the dagger that was still in her chest. You knew Witchers practiced magic, so you were hoping that would be his big finale to this nightmare. 

It wasn’t.

Kylo coiled his arm around her neck, bringing her back to his chest. She thrashed, and you watched him lock a leg around hers for good measure. He took a few steps like this, making sure that he didn’t lose his grip, and he began to drag the knife upward. Blood splattered at the hilt, splitting open her chest, breaking every bone in its wake. You could hear the cracks between her feral blubbering, snapping her teeth in the air, clawing at any part of him she could find. 

And in one more graceful movement, her top half was completely severed, dropping to nothing in front of her bloodthirsty defeator. And for what seemed like good measure, he pulled out another glass from his pouches, pouring a thick liquid over the body. 

“What’re you doing?” Your voice broke as you finally spoke, unclutching the skirts that were your only security.

He didn’t even look up.

“She isn’t dead.” He snapped his fingers, a ball of flame dancing from them, fire sealed her skin before it devoured it, leaving it to ash. 

You opened your mouth again to speak, only nothing came out. So much was on your mind, yet you felt so empty. Numb. You stared at the burnt spot on the cave floor, but Kylo didn’t move. He was watching you, blood still dripping from his shoulder, his mask still perfectly placed over his chiseled nose. 

Through all the adrenaline you were harboring, the desperation to see his face again stayed stubborn.

“How did you find me? Did you follow.. Where the hell did she even take me?” You stayed in your position, “and what the hell was she? I — thought… you were… She bit you. What were those glasses you were breaking all over the place? Did you just make fire with your fingers? Was she naked?” 

A puff of air through the mixed material in his muzzle was all you got in response, taking a few wide steps to lift you to your feet. You quickly pulled your arm from him. 

“No. What the fuck? Why can’t you literally answer any questions? Don’t you think you owe me that?” 

“The second time I’ve saved your life.” he reminded, “I owe you nothing.” 

It was now when you finally got clear vision of his eyes, expecting the golden gaze you memorized, only to nearly collide against the wall when nothing but black looked down at you. Your throat dried, switching between the heavy purple veins under them, and back to his unidentifiable pupils. 

You took a long breath, letting the fear sink into your belly, before you stepped forward, aiming your chin up toward him. 

“You’ve been in Beauclair this whole time, haven’t you? You just haven’t checked into the inn. Are you avoiding me? You know, you’re the one who decided to pull your dick out on your horse.” 

He growled, taking a deep breath, which only dwarfed you further. 

“Tell me,” he tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his dark stare, “are you angry because all you can think about is my cock? You want me to show up at that dull inn and fuck you delerious every night?” Your lips parted, saliva building in your mouth. 

He dropped his hand.

“Come, or be the next bait for whatever finds home here.” 

Kylo passed you, stepping up the incline that was the exit, even still, you stayed. You crossed your arms over your chest, gauging a reaction from the Witcher. 

“Maybe whatever comes will show me more mercy than you have.” 

The Viper stopped dead in his tracks, twisting on his heel, before he was closing the space between you at a menacing rate. 

Macabrely stoic, you stared into the abyss that were his eyes, unwavering in your feigned bravery. 

“Mercy.” He chuckled mockingly, before he snatched you at your throat. Lifting you off of your feet, bringing you level to him. You couldn’t help but think that he looked beautiful like this, his pupils broken, the black matching the armor he wore.

He surveyed you like this for a moment before releasing you, leaving you to a pile at his feet. 

You grasped at his legs, bringing yourself to some type of stability while you filled your lungs, finding yourself at your knees in front of him. Anticipation breathed at the back of your neck, gooseflesh dressing you. He grabbed your face in exchange, his hand taking the entirety of your jaw with no effort. 

“You’ll beg for mercy when I’m done with you, little müna.” 

Pushing his leathered fingers into your wet mouth, Kylo forced your jaw open, flattening your tongue while he began to unzip his pants. You churned at the thought of seeing his cock again, ignoring every ounce of morality you had. The dirt under your knees was hard, pinching your flesh as you adjusted your weight. You stared up at him, willing, and he grunted, releasing himself. 

His cock was already hard, waiting, and with the way he prodded your tongue you knew exactly what he wanted from you. But he didn’t give you a beat to do it yourself. 

The Viper removed his hand, shoving his cock in its place, filling you to the base of your throat. You gagged, your fingers reaching to brush against his solid thighs before he smacked your hand away. He reached back up to the shoulder that hadn’t stopped bleeding, coating the glove in the fresh liquid before he smeared it along your face. First your eyes, forcing you to close them, then down your cheeks, painting you in him. 

“Don’t touch me.” Kylo warned through clenched teeth as he began to push himself into your face, finding a steady rhythm. 

You whimpered against him, leaving your hands in your lap while he collected the majority of your hair in one hand. He snaked his fingers against your scalp, starting at the nape of your neck, letting them lace through the strands before he wrapped it around his knuckles. 

The Viper gave a good tug, forcing you to take every inch of him, bury your nose in his pubes, inhaling his musk, hindering your senses. You were being swallowed by this man, every bit of you knew it, you wanted him in any way he’d give. 

Even if it meant fucking your face on a cave floor after he’d just saved you from a damned vampire. 

“That’s it, choke on it, slut.” He groveled, shimmying your face in a way that would make the tip of his cock bounce along your esophagus. 

Your eyes welled with tears, hollowing out your mouth so you could take this monster’s perfect cock as it should be. Appreciating every inch forced into you, tongue rolling to steal tastes from his slickened skin. 

His sounds egged you on, the low moans that were drowning between his primal growls. You wanted him to go mad with the feeling of your mouth, and this wasn’t enough. You attempted to force your head further, though his hand was doing all the real work, reaching yours up again to cup his balls in your hand. 

You heard a muffled breath before he was ripping you from his erection, forcing you to gaze straight at it, and you were sure no torture device had anything on this. Your spit dripping from his swollen head, the veins protruding and garnishing his dick in the most delicious way. Some saliva dripped from your bottom lip as you looked up at him with confused, desperate eyes. 

Kylo dragged you by your hair, your ass skating across the textured floor, until you met the wall you’d been recoiling to earlier. 

“I told you not to touch me, already stuffed with cock and can’t stop being a disobedient whore.” He spat, before he slammed his cock back into your gaping mouth. 

His thumb hooked at your jaw, over your bottom teeth, dislodging it from your face. You whined, the pain shooting down your neck, through your head, making it harder to breathe when you began to panic. But this didn’t stop the Viper, every time you fussed he would smack his hips hard enough against you that your skull would crack against the earthly wall. 

As you shifted, trying to mask the pain with the pleasure you found in him using you like this — you felt the wetness ruining your undergarments. You squeezed them together in a futile attempt for some pressure, any sort of relief, and Kylo quickly kicked your legs back apart before you could even finish your thought. He held your hair right at the top of your head, forcing stillness, leaning over your body, using your mouth as his personal fuck hole. You could feel him getting harder in your mouth, which only could mean one thing. And you wanted it.

You wanted to feel him shoot down your throat, invade your insides, make home in your belly and know the taste of his spend. 

Excitement was getting the best of you, nipples poking through your blouse as it slipped from your shoulder. He looked down at you, his eyes still plagued with whatever concoction had done this to him, and came in your mouth. 

You tried to open your throat, but the brunt force had swelled it enough to object to swallow. Coughing, you used his cock as a cork to keep the seed down. It was only when you began to feel him softening that he finally pulled out of you. You were more dazed than when you’d woke up here.

Kylo zipped up his pants, watching you all the while. You were beginning to get used to that, the way he looked to you as if you were going to say something earth shattering at any point. Closing your mouth, your jaw clicked back into place with a harsh pang.

Your hand clutched over it, whimpering, trying to move it to make sure that he hadn’t just broken your face trying to use it as a human cock toy. 

Unsure if your feet would even register standing, you lifted yourself to them and your knees immediately wobbed.

The Viper sighed, grabbing you at your hips before he slung you over your shoulder as if you were extra cargo. 

Stepping out of the cave, ducking under the passageways so he wouldn’t hit you along them, his head already reached the top so you were a dangerous addition to his exit. When he mounted Luxe, he didn’t bother with the courtesy of letting you into the saddle in front of him. 

And for the second time, he dropped you at the inn without so much as another word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://witcher.fandom.com/wiki/Bruxa  
> and again, here is what you encounter !!! i hope you guys are enjoying it so far and i'm sorry for the wait on this one.


	5. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can you get ointment from a local herbalist?

Empty mugs piled the tables faster than you could keep up tonight, collecting them in your arms and being forced to inhale the putrid smell of ale that should’ve gotten familiar by now. You wrinkled your nose, hoping no leftovers would splash on your clothes as you journeyed to the kitchen.   
  
The first snowfall had hit, and it was heavy, the windows covered in blankets of fluffy white curtains. Men huddled near the fire, booking more days than normal, waiting for it to pass. While your impatience wore differently. 

Subconsciously, your mind could conjure the exact days since you’d seen him. 

But the last few days have been check in, check out — change sheets, check in again, check out early — is that person even still here?... and repeat, your body was a machine catered to serving. 

Seemed like useless tasks now that you knew what it was like to awaken every nerve ending that you possessed. For what seemed like millionth time, you damned the Viper who had found routine passing in your workplace, leaving you with this cursed form, like leftover ash from a campfire.

You counted the keys gone when you slinked back behind the counter, wiping your forehead on the back of your sleeve, grateful when you found only a few missing. The last week they’d been emptied, along with your sanity. 

“Pst, missy,” Ruek whispered from behind you, and you turned to see his fuzzy face peeking from behind the heavy kitchen door, “you got anymore orders?” 

“No,” you gave him a tired smile, “just checked out ten guys in a row, who I swear were the same person.” 

“Beards’ll do that to ya,” his kind eyes squinted as he emerged, and you leaned against your station, giving your feet a slight break, “they make us pretty. Here, close your eyes and open up. I’ve got a surprise.” 

Hesitating, you gave him a look, tipping your chin as you tried to see what he was holding behind his back. He clicked his tongue, “Come on, your cheating nature is showing, close your damn eyes it’s not gonna kill ya.” 

Finally, you sighed, doing as he said. You could use a bit of a distraction from work anyway, all you did was go home, plant your face into the pillow only to wake up to the same programming. 

“Open,” he reminded, which only made you more annoyed. It was Ruek, so you inevitably gave in to avoid the argument. You felt something cold on your lip, reaching your tongue toward the ‘special’ treat, and biting into… chocolate? Quickly, juices poured into your mouth, which urged you to finally open your eyes. 

The cook stood, grinning proudly, a dipped strawberry in his hand. “Eck, Ru, you should've warned me, you know how I am about stuff that sweet.” 

He opened his mouth to speak, but what followed was not from him.

“I used to think this inn had good service,” Kylo’s voice strapped you to an invisible post, straightening your back, choking on the leftover flavors. 

The Viper wasn’t looking at you, he was staring straight at Ruek, exigently demanding a response. 

“My fault, thought Miss could use a little break.” 

“Hm.” 

You wanted him to look at you, your very soul was demanding it, to be drowned, the striking yellow in his eyes two suns that burned everything in their path, and you the phoenix who rose under them.

How long had he been here? 

“Do you need a key?” You finally spoke, trying to sound nonchalant, licking the bits of chocolate off of your lips as you reached for one.

“No. I already have one.” 

What? Betty wasn’t even here. You had been the only one checking anyone in and out for the last couple days. Your brows furrowed. 

“There’s a spill near the gwent tables.” He added.

“Is that why you came over here?” You could feel Ruek looking at you, wondering why the hell you were questioning the man in the first place. Of course, The Viper didn’t answer, nor did he fully acknowledge your presence.

“I got it. If we have no more orders. No problem. Just — uh let Jerrid know if you need anything from the kitchen.” Ruek shuffled away while you were too busy playing stare off with Kylo’s mask. 

“You let everyone’s fingers in your mouth, little müna?”

“What? No. He has me taste test stuff all the time,” gods, this man kept you oversharing at any crumb of attention he gave you, still severely irritated with overgrown mutant though you began to smirk, “is that why you came over here? Are you.. are you jealous?” 

“You expect me to play cards next to someone’s secretions.” 

“It is, isn’t it? You can play Mr. Keepaway all you want, you think you have this affect on me where you can use me to your will. But you wanna know what I know that you don’t?” 

He didn’t respond, eye twitching, which only aided you, leaning over the counter that Kylo could very easily hop, and this was when he finally met your eyes. Though your traitor of a body screamed with validation, you only grinned.

“I know this isn’t one sided. What would you do if you knew I fucked him?” You didn’t, of course, but the thought of making The Viper jealous thrilled you to the core, “If I let him cum in my mouth without having to force my jaw open? If he was the one I was fallin—” 

Your chin was grabbed, keeping you still over the counter, your feet almost hovering on the floor. Leather squished your cheeks, his gaze scooping your bravery from you in a single second. 

“Careful.” The Witcher warned, studying your face, tipping it slightly in his grip, reviving the soreness in your jaw.

“Or what, Kylo?”

He paused, and for some reason you knew you weren’t going to lack a response this time. Dropping you, he left you to land against the bartop, and his broad shoulders turned toward the small crowd. 

“Leave.” His voice was a crack of thunder, splitting the customers' relaxation in half.

Most scattered to their feet, afraid of why this King of the Abyss was evicting them, not wanting to take the chance. The men who were brave enough to stay were met with a glint of silver, only to follow, and you heard the silence from valleys away. 

Your eyes darted to find Ruek, there was no living thing in that room except you and Kylo.

If he was even living. 

“What the hell? What’re you doing? Are you trying to make me lose my job?” He caught your neck again, like it was a new skill he was practicing, then pulled his mask down over his chin.

The whole world stopped. Your breathing was arrested in your lungs, feeling a rush of awareness cut off your circulation and leave you dizzy with the sight of perfect, scarred lips, remembering how earnestly they had caressed your breasts atop of his horse. He was grimacing, wrinkles near his nose as he looked down at you. A lost warning. 

He slammed you into the nearest table, not paying mind to any of the silverware that was under you nor the plates he had just shattered on the floor. Standing between your legs that hung off the end of the it, the fireplace triggered the iridescence of his armor, another engligment to why he wore his title so well. 

You couldn’t stop studying his face, mapping every curve, and you were needy as you leaned up in an attempt to capture his mouth, find every ingredient of what made up this man that haunted you, possessed you. 

Not a ghost, but a demon. 

Just as your lips brushed against the tip of his, your tongue an anxious explorer, he pressed you back down into the oak. 

“You are mine,” He spat, his lips curling around his teeth as he let the word marinate on his tongue. 

“No,” you gasped, “f—fuck you, I’m not anyone’s, and you out of everyone has shown me that.” 

“No? So your cunt isn’t soaked for me right now?” Your thighs pressed together, lips parting just at the words rolled off his venomous tongue, yet you shook your head in pure denial. “Liar. I can smell you. Can practically taste it.” The unoccupied hand ran along the outside of your thigh, under your skirts, til he pinched the fat between his fingers. 

The way his mask hung at his chin was just as sensual as his voice, you didn’t even know how that was physically possible, then again this man broke the rules of reality every time you saw him. He pulled you down further, pressing his hips into yours, “Say it.” 

“I won’t,” your voice broke with a whine as you felt the bulge in his pants, your legs wrapping around him without a second thought, he smacked your calf, forcing them to hang once more. You groaned, yearning to feel some sort of pressure at your pulsing clit, your body’s temperature spiking by the second. 

“Hm. We’ll see.” 

The Viper plucked the string that held your bodice together, pulling it until it completely unraveled, your blouse the only thing that hid your perking breasts. You looked down to his gloved hand, then back to him, hair skating over his shoulders, gods-made handles for your undoing. You let out a sigh as he thumbed your nipple through the material, keeping his palm wrapped around your throat. Your hips buckled, finding nothing, the beast keeping his hips perfectly spaced from yours so you couldn’t use him for any sort of pleasure. You felt your blood boiling, and not just from the intricate torture he was inflicting. No man had ever had this affect on you, but he was not any man. 

A low growl came from deep in Kylo’s throat, and your eyes opened, not realizing you shut them in the first place. He was unblinking, watching your reaction as the stitch of his glove rolled around the bud. 

“Please, Kylo,” you begged, shattering every restraint you had just from seeing him so immersed in you like this, still clothed yet utterly hopeless, knowing he was your only salvation.

“Say it.” 

You whined, one of your fists hitting the table, not wanting to give into him. But you weren’t the only one suffering. Pulling your top down, he released your tits from their confines, and immediately consumed them. His mouth opened, hot and wet, leaving easy marks as he glided from one to the other, tightening his hand on your neck every time your chittering frame squirmed. 

One of your hands found his hair, and you were surprised when he didn’t pull it from his head. You took the opportunity earnestly, digging your fingers through the raven locks, breaking through knots to find a good grip. He sucked on you like he was getting oxygen straight from your skin, popping a nipple from his mouth only to give the same attention to the other. 

Your cunt was pulsing so badly it hurt, every flutter mocking the emptiness of it, so much that you had to swallow down noises at every flick of the Viper’s tongue. 

Leather fingers danced back down your form, parting your thighs, not hesitating as they peeled your panties from your saturated pussy. The first time you had his cock, you fucked yourself into a rage trying to mimic the way it felt, three fingers wasn’t enough for the fantasy and you knew it. Being so close to that now left you ravenous, forgetting the challenge that was imposed in the first place. 

He ran the tip of his finger down the line of your lips, collecting the juices at the end of it with a single scoop before he pushed it back inside of you. Barely spreading you as he toyed with your entrance, circling and stretching it open, already making wet noises in the emptied inn. 

“Fuck! I — please fuck me, please. I’ll do anything. Please just — fuck Kylo, please.” The words could barely be made out through insistent whines, he stayed silent, his mouth and finger working diligently to send you over that edge, into the pool of his domination. 

He reached his thumb up to press pressure on your clit, never moving it, while the finger hooked inside of you, and your whole body jerked forward. Kylo quickly put your back in your place, mentally and physically, forcing you to remember his promise. 

“I’m yours! Okay! I’m yours, _puhleaaase_ , just please…” You couldn’t even properly be convincing, though you meant it, even if you didn’t want to admit it outside of him fucking you sensless. 

He yielded both of his hands, lifting his face from your chest and ridding you of the secure grip you had on his head. Honey yellow eyes surveyed you from your heavy lidded gaze, all the way down to your lifted skirts, then back up again. 

“Hm. I suppose I need to be more convincing.” In one languid motion, he had your dress above your head, corset falling to the floor with it, leaving you completely bare on top of the main round table in the dead center of your job. Ruek could be watching from the back for all you knew. 

Kylo leered above you, his chest filling, consuming your gaze as much as he did your mind. His teeth pinched the middle finger of his glove, pulling it off with his mouth.

Your stomach flipped. 

He grabbed the amulet that hung at his neck, snapping it off and rolling it around in his hand, examining it the same way he did you. You could swear you saw his eyes glisten with… something, before his focus was back.

The Viper’s large fist started to glow, and soon so did the metal.

Anticipation tickled the back of your neck, your heartbeat similar to an approaching wardrum as it filled your eyes the more you watched, “what’re you doing?” 

“Showing you.” He didn’t blink.

“Showing me what?” 

“Who you belong to.” 

The metal of the viper face was red hot, smoking nearly. He held it between two fingers, grabbing your thigh in one hand and tugging you as you began to crawl up the table. You obediently stilled. 

“Don’t move or we’ll have to do it again.” 

You sucked in a breath of air, senses filling with his scent — pine, mint, leather, the very earth. Just as you did he began to line his cock up with your entrance, rubbing against the folds. He hushed you as you squeaked, and began to lower the medallion down between the hills of your chest. He perfectly lined it up, not having to look twice before he dropped his hand down, and you cried out. The flesh boiled and singed, and the entire map of your skin feeling the aftermath.

The pain was quickly distracted by another as he split you open, a growl being spat between his teeth as his cock sunk all the way into you, giving no time to adjust to the overwhelming size of him. Your nails dug at the stained wood, scratching for some kind of stability as your skin bubbled, painting a gift made by the Viper himself, all while the tip of his dick began to wrack against your cervix. 

Your eyes rolled back completely into your head, nimble fingers finding straps of his armor to hold onto, which only assisted him in beating his hips off of your cunt. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, your knee barely making it to curve, it only helped the Witcher angle you to his pillaging. 

The smell of burnt flesh filled your nose, truly you almost forgot about the branding he had just centered on your torso, meeting euphoria with the way his cock worked inside of you. It sent you to another plane, both of his large hands gripping your hips as he forced your smaller frame to bounce off of him. Forks and other leftover dining ware pinched at your back, ridding them off the table the more he pounded you.

His eyes were blazing carnality, encapsulating the definition of primal. 

“You are mine,” he spoke through each stroke of his hips, dropping the carved metal to hold your body still with the familiar hold on your neck, “every inch of you… you are a hole for me to fuck. And that is all you are.” 

You whined, specks floating in your sight as you kept alert, eyes so heavy with pleasure it was damn near blinding you. 

“The next time you let another man touch you,” a sharp smack of his hips, pain crawling up your spine, threatening to quite literally break you, “I will fuck you atop of his carcass.” 

Another plunge of his cock and the table was splintering under you, until it snapped in two. Kylo didn’t care — in fact, it was as if it didn’t even happen, the perfect savage beat he was plowing you with was never broken. 

He just used his own body as a kickstand for your lower half, the persistent assault keeping you where he wanted, finding no need in his hands other than to appreciate your body.

Kylo twisted your nipple, sliding across the spot he had just engraved, your lips parting in return. You heard another grunt from him, forcing your dazed focus on his face, which would forever be your most vivid memory, and you couldn’t even bring warning for the orgasm that he was inducing. 

Just as it creeped up, his bare thumb was circling expertly over your swollen knot, breaking the dam. Your climax poured in, walls clenching and milking his cock in the process. 

A gritty groan was dropped into your ear, and it only served as a catalyst to your silent screams, legs shaking while your cunt became much more sensitive. You tried to pull up, away from his relentless motions, he didn’t let you, just chased you along the broken table, filling you to the brim. 

Lewd sounds began to echo with the crackles of the fire, and all you could focus on was him — he was watching his cock go in and out of you, holding your skirts above your waist to get a good view of his slickened dick, pushing him toward his own finale, using you every inch of the way. 

You could barely tell from his face when he finished, you studied the Viper like it was your true passion, fossilizing his mannerisms, expressions, even his voice. You ate up every moment, the threat of them being memories a looming shadow of presence. The tiny twitch of his nose, deep wrinkle of his forehead, subtle signs he was coming apart for you. 

He pulled out of your fluttering cunt, after leaving a lazy kiss on the scabbing mark of possession he’d left, being more gentle with that than any part of you.

Kylo pulled his mask back over his face before he was tucking his cock away. You were almost sad to see it go. 

If he didn’t come back after this, maybe you’d be okay. You looked down at the piece of himself that he permanently placed on you, your finger running on the curve of its open mouth. It didn’t hurt, maybe due to the adrenaline pumping through your veins. By the time you looked back up, he was turned. 

“What’re you—”

“Sh.” 

Your lips pressed together, wanting to reach for your dress, yet something about him told you not to move a muscle. 

The door pushed open, a panicked villager entering, tripping over themselves at every step.

“Help, a monster is attacking the town! It’s killing everyone, my family, please!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no monsters in this one (kind of...), just smut for the heavy wait i left you guys with. a bad mental month, but i really hope you enjoy this one! thank you to everyone who has left me love on this fic, it's really helped me stay motivated. i enjoyed writing this one.


End file.
